Poems by Tracy Brooks


Tracy Brooks is a lifelong writer. After reaching success with her facebook poetry page, www.facebook.com/soulbeckons, she is now in the process of writing her first book. When not writing,she is busy homeschooling her children, receiving wisdom from her dog, teaching yoga to young people, and offering various spiritual practices to others. www.tracybrookswriter.com


I came here as water
in spate being
reverent mists
unreachable depths
eternally dancing
as both a ripple and a swollen ache
never stagnant
consuming in my undercurrents
drizzle to downpour
inexhaustibly giving
surrendering at will
belonging to the beyond
renewing in my flow
stillness as a pause
never ceasing
flow to breath

be brave
there is courage in the air
for you are a warrior
even though you’d rather be off watching the sky
not all fighters are on the battlefield
many are gentle ones
holding vessels for the worlds big pain
is born out of an unspoken power
what’s in a name
do the roots tangle or nourish?
I believe both are necessary
It’s brave to just believe

a haiku on breath–

to breathe so fully
every sense is present
sweet exhalation


I would like to let the world
find its way
to a place of possibilities
paradox of darkness
burning in the light
so many tragedies and destruction of soul
earth holds it all
and she is howling
writhing in pain
inner screeching no longer
beings have been boiled over
and fear is an awful captain
feeling that too many have pulled strings
and tied knots in places and spaces
while so many have been silenced and made small
we are wrought with this unquenchable chaos
born out of deep seated heartache
when so many are silenced
when so many get numb
we are led to the place of forgetting
why we are here
losing sight of any kindred connection
fear morphs into anger
and rage is so much louder
then all the raspy voices
collapsed from trying to be heard
somewhere right this moment
a baby is being born
people are holding one another
souls are taking their last breath here
in love
only love
the sun is creeping up
seeds burst underground
oceans swell with promise
friends are bearing witness
women are dancing
men are singing
children are laughing
dogs are waiting for their humans to walk through the door
there is love
so much love
we are praying and crying
forgiving and trying

day 28

ask me of the song and I will tell you
what sings to us in the darkness
are we getting to know who we are
when we fall lost
where are we
are we stepping outside of what confines us
or striving too hard to fit in
is what we push out growing us
or draining us
can you hum the tune
do you even recall the sound of your song?

day 27
-haiku for Nepal-

God speaks everywhere
in languages no one knows
earth often howls it

day 26

the voice I heard before arriving
gentle in the tones of a mother’s way
be it singing sweet tunes of finding sunshine
or inquiring what the days desire was
still touches me
the very voice of yesterdays promises
still find their way into my head
you sing still from beyond here
and the melody holds me upright
life is lifted in the humming
your voice is like the forever winds

day 25

When the winds caress me
I hold open my tired soul
bowing to the places that Spirit meets me
rain falls down upon me holy
soil pure between my toes
under the fallen purple blooms
God hears me call

Poem 24

humbled by the notion
that I can like what I gaze upon
much more fully than early days
I see a sense of wonder in my eyes
a place that has looked beyond
as it helps me to stand in appreciation and loving
towards myself
as my children are always watching
have always caught me and stopped me cold
if the gaze is not loving
what am I teaching?
to enter the relationship with oneself
and allow the imperfections
perhaps to see the cracks as unique etchings
to hold the beauty up differently
nature knows
and to realize that life will show up as beauty
and as wretchedness
as soft as newness and ripe fruit
as rotten as decay and heavy achings
I too hold my beauty and grace
and also my darkness and fear
so now I show up at the mirror as I show up at the yoga mat
awkwardly attempting
ever so tenderly
to love what is.
knowing what is is like the wind
and I am only like water
reflecting what I touch

Poem 23

final sips of coffee
the soft snore of my four legged friend
who has stayed by me for every chapter
not even leaving to chase the ridiculous cat
the way the house is kissed in the early morning sun
makes even the piles seem perfect
strawberries and kisses with the cutest five year old in town
the texts of a man with the purest heart
the teenage pulls in the other room
hints of life way beyond the seen
the way the words want to be danced out of me now
everyday and ordinary blessings surround me
thankful breathing
grateful movement
may I hold it softly

Clumsy Cento

Makes me smile at the thought
Considering my life
fragmented wholeness
where worries hunt
I left long ago, from all such occasions
I never liked rules…
splashed over me Holy
maybe it’s not about understanding
I am smudged and dappled
It’s refreshing like stretching out
embrace each part of me

what gives me comfort
is the way the earth holds me
the way my body breathes me
the eyes of a partner who has rode the waters
alongside me

what gives me comfort
is the way my pup greets me
every dawn
as if the day was perfect
just as it is

what gives me comfort
is the way I watch my children
question everything
as it tells me seeds are deeply planted
and when my time is up
it all still continues

what gives me comfort
is the whispers of those that have already left
this earth walk
for they let me know it only gets better

what gives me comfort
is letting words spill out of me
from the deeper spaces
and hungry places

The very first book I fell in love with
still resides nearby
I recall ever so sweetly
Caroline and all her animal friends
became my friends
daily we would recreate the adventures
the travels
the magic
the treasures
vivid are they still
in my heart and in my bones
Gratitude swirls deep every time I turn these tattered pages

The hurrier I go the behinder I get
Let go or be dragged
Cut away dead wood
Connect four
Bless this mess
Be nice or leave
Practice makes practice
Trust the earth
Party Box
Be love


contrary place we all sit with
layers of skin we peel
boundaries adjusted
something had to give

water is hard to grab onto
flesh is harder still
emotions will hide
something had to take

my younger self was not as brave
my older me is not as confined
bittersweet integration
something has to change

I tried to carry yesterday
I asked to hold today
the two disagreed like stubborn children
something had to fall

I stand upon the wayward spots
I ask the bones to lead
my emptiness confounds me
something has to leap

Do not hold on to anything.
Embrace the moments you walk through, the people you connect with, yet do not grasp.
Allow all of this unsettled life to run through you, trying not to pause any place too long.
Do not collect too many wishes, let the sweet intentions pulse out of you daily.
Holding on too hard may make your blinders pinch you,
and you will not be able to see what is.
Clinging to the what happened stops us from walking on.
We are not meant to stay stagnant, this life is the journey to embrace change.
Let go. Like the winds upon the water, trusting the flow of it.
Release the need to carry judgements, in yourself and others.
Do not carry around the weight of worry,or let guilt be kept beside you.
Do not cling tightly, even to love.
Love is meant to be walked with sweetly, tended to gently,
given away freely.
Do not hold on.

Listen to the silence, in between the pause
of what is said, of what you breathe,
of what you struggle with —
here lie the the breadcrumbs,
the clearing,
the beaten paths of forgotten mornings—
recall the way the early light showed you
what it was like to move freely,
before the afternoon gave rise to the regrets
and ruminations.

Teacher moves away
I reach to offer embrace
Some wise ones hold walls


think before you speak
wait before you act
look both ways before you cross the street
breathe before you react
so helpful is the pause
when you write
you must let the words be impulsive
the fire have its time
otherwise what is the use of your story?
people want to feel something
need to move through the waters with you
diving deep enough to uncover something for themselves,
of themselves
the days I didn’t pause the pen
when I wrote because I had to
let out the caged and pent up creature
that resides within us all
no fear of it devouring
anything but my own bullshit
let it lead me to my prey
those are the only pages worth saving
hesitation has no place here
trusting the bones
letting out the story deep within
these are the ways
we birth our healings
and invite others to own their voice

I see my beauty in you


and in your laughter
my happiness becomes bigger
than any place on earth
I feel my heartbeat
matches the breath
of the universe
rise and fall
beat by beat
I sense my longings
in the way you move
recalling dreams
every time you speak aloud
I taste forever
when you are near me
knowing all we are
is just a part
I see my beauty in you
and it calls me
in the purest voice I know



I breathe more deeply since you walked on
simply because you are the air
I love larger now
for you left me part of your heart
I am surrounded in the shelterings of many lifetimes
as letting you go
meant ripening deeply
unto the sways
of all you brought forth
I wonder out loud these days
for you whisper of secrets
that I am finally able to decipher
who knew that the ending
was just the unfolding
and in the release of your garments
we would be even closer
cradle me softly
as the sky paints with you
sing me to sleep
in the ways of the wind
awaken me fully
as the dawn creeps back
and in the laughter of the children
you are felt
for you are the universe now
and your smile guides me
home is here
home is here

I’m still collecting ideas of me

threads of connections

ways of moving in the world
forgotten nuances
of long ago longings
still gathering
courage to put them in some form
revisiting conversations
of long ago
I’m still collecting up some pieces
of things that life pushed aside
saving the fragments
of the me that sat too close the back edge
and in my quest to make enough room
for too many other things
I felt myself break apart
now rallying up the forgotten
the hushed
the whispered
I’m still collecting
sweet forgiveness
in the glued together shards
holding it softly
ready to pour it upon myself
or give it away gently
I am still collecting emptiness
the kind that sets one free
realizing that clinging too tightly
to any thing I find
must be allowed to fall away

Ode to a friend ~ daily resurrection

I see the many ways pain tried to take him

he wears it on his gait
yet the glimmer in his eyes
make me feel he is not daunted
I hear the way his voice cracks when
memory charges in
then he switches to a laughter
that makes me bittersweet
for in this strangers smile
I found a remembered friend
I know he is not who the gaze presented
yet from the far corners
it as if my Dad has come back
When I listened to his story
I felt a reverence in the bones
here was a once addicted soul
that died unto the numbing life
held his hurts
bandaged the wounds
and traveled on
gathering wounded soldiers
helping them fight their wars
and in the ordinary bend
of an everyday man
I felt he was resurrected
dead to the old bottle’s call
as he cast off the need to numb
he summoned the strength to dive deep
and when he came up for air
he brought the drowning with him
he no longer falls from intoxication
yet he surrenders his ways to his mat
kindness speaks with a raspy voice
wisdom looks through the lines
I think I found my hero
for he reminds me to keep showing up
in the ways he has outran the monster
he lets the decaying roll away
that is born again
my friend

I honor my own becomings
as I gaze upon the moon
bidding bittersweet farewell to what has come to its final space
Lady Moon cradles the endings
and ushers in the next wave
She knows me from before this life
has watched me come and go
She always offers wisdom
and meets me where I am
I have come to trust
her glow of another world
subtle secrets
powerful feminine voices
of years that passed
and the unbounded gifts
of letting her shine into my soul
we will walk eternal pathways
she will guide me through this life
quietly reminding me
of my voice
of forgotten places
of the vastness
She shares because
she has been there
and offers it all up to the eternal knowings

The Exodus within


Seldom do we find
an earth bound being
who has not been forced to depart
some place
of confinement
be it from a temporary abode
a primordial womb
or a way of being that no longer fits
in small ways
we are wrought with
ways we must change
leaning to the sun
casting off the casings
departing the safe nests our mind built
when we leave
try always
take all of the beings
that have inhabited the caves underneath
in the movement
may we be study enough to carry the broken parts of ourselves
then we need not return
yet if we must go back to the abandoned cells
may we scrape off a fragment of the broken parts we rescue
and bury it deeply
allowing what once was only heartache
to be transformed
seeds of our soul
deeper into the moist darkness of what was
nourished by what is
cracked open
trusting the exodus within

I want to say

we are all here for the journey
climbing solitary walls
but swimming in the same river
I want to say
we each are guided by a hundred unnamed angels
that nature will answer almost any question that burns
for the earth is not timid
and the wind believes
you will find your answers
I want to say
that every being comes to share its lone soul
to bare it in the ways
that speak freely
that each time we fall to our knees
we are lifted
the sacred and the mundane are forever friends
the good byes of this life
are but a gentle nudge
to understanding the infinite pulls
to summoning the benevolent courage
this walk on earth requires
I want to say that we are bigger than this life
so when the shed is final
we come to the dance of the beyond
and like the sky
we are everywhere

Bow to the Process
-(inspired by “The Woodcarver” and creating very first book)
Pacing in the confines of everyday

I return to a much simpler call

Here I am





allowing whatever arises

remembering where the stirrings reside

trusting to share would be giving

Meeting what is

sensing what was

looking pain in her eyes

calling on the joy of this life

letting them speak

not interrupting

knowing Spirit is with us

Bravely becoming a gentler presence

stepping softly

into the bones

among the ashes


not turning away

the unformed




letting the connections


No longer pulled by the outcome

just sweetly held open by the process

I bow